The conception of Inception

By Dan Cohen, Santa Monica Reporter

Although it aspires to more, at its heart Christopher Nolan’s “Inception” is an elaborate caper flick. And while it belongs to a genre as old as moving pictures, it turns the conventions inside out, re-energizing itself with a fresh injection of technical bravado about every 15 minutes.

The caper, or heist, is a metaphor for something much bigger. The challenge of winning against all odds taps into transcendent issues of mortality and destiny. Is there anyone alive who hasn’t fantasized about beating the odds, one way or another? If only we had the daring and skill.

We always have a fair idea of what to expect going into a caper flick.  A team comes together, takes on a virtually impossible mission, and then somehow messes up in the execution. The big question then becomes, can they somehow make it work, at the exact moment when all seems lost.

The objective could be an impregnable museum, a bank, or a military installation; often a place off limits to ordinary mortals. But the most important element is the human factor, because at the end of the day, it’s the characters destiny that’s really at stake.  And if we aren’t involved with them, or can’t identify with their issues, it doesn’t make any difference whether the mission succeeds or fails

The single, indispensable persona in a caper is the mastermind, a man or woman in charge of the operation. This character, while highly skilled, is usually a victim of some undeserved misfortune, which becomes the impetus behind the undertaking, and more or less marries the character to the task.  The misfortune, often a double edged blade, may strike right at the heart of the quality that distinguishes the mastermind from everybody else in the story. Nobody can take his place.

Then comes the caper itself; an extraordinary challenge, that requires skill and daring beyond anything the mastermind has successfully encountered in the past, that functions as a fulcrum for tension. Most often the objective is armed with the latest technology, since nobody cares about a bank guarded by a padlock and a guy with a slingshot.

But none of the elements mean anything without an imperfect aspect of human nature, the fly in the ointment. When an elegantly conceived failing is at the heart of it, the caper itself becomes subordinate to a larger scenario.

The main character in “The Thomas Crown Affair,” looks to pull off one last museum heist before retiring. What makes Crown more interesting than the standard issue movie thief, is that he acts out of a psychological need. Money means nothing to him. So, it’s the deed itself.  But his need is compromised by a seductive detective, in her own way as driven as he is. The result, in both the Norman Jewison original, with Steve McQueen, and especially the John McTiernan/Pierce Brosnan remake, is first rate diversion. What makes both movies work is the tension between two competing desires, fulfillment through another, and fulfillment through one self. This kernel of psychological truth graces an otherwise outlandish story with just the right touch of credibility

But there’s far more at stake in “Notorious,” Hitchcock’s classic World War II caper.  Cary Grant’s task is to romance Ingrid Bergman, the daughter of a prominent Nazi, and then, once he’s gained her confidence, manipulate her in such a way as to get at military secrets. But when they fall in love Grant discovers that she’s innocent of collaboration.  In spite of that he keeps his own role in the war effort a secret.

But then things get complicated.  Grant has to get her into bed with one of the enemy, (played with great sympathy by Claude Rains,) so that he’ll trust her enough to reveal the German’s plan to smuggle uranium.  Hitchcock taps into a very dark aspect of Grant’s nature, which keeps the emotional and physical danger running neck and neck.  You keep asking yourself how Grant, so seemingly decent, could arrange for this other guy to have sex with the woman he loves, in so doing, to risk her life.  When the Nazis catch on, and start to poison her, we can’t be sure whether he’ll intervene and save her. The suspense, based on a capricious aspect of human nature, reaches the sublime.

Sex and love can always be depended on to foul up a caper, from the Jason Statham driven “The Bank Job,” to Steve McQueen’s “Getaway,” to Jules Dassin’s classic, “Riffifi.” Desire always calls upon us to order our priorities, and then to make tough decisions. Which brings us to “Inception.”

The mastermind in this case, is an intellectual, who has the ability to insert himself into other people’s dreams and influence their behavior.

We meet DeCaprio and his support staff of dream invaders in a lengthy torrent of effects heavy action that confounds us until it ends, when it’s mostly explained.  The “impossible,” assignment they’re handed, is to get inside a billionaire’s head and plant an idea that will impact his politics. Hence the “inception” of the title.

Essential to the success of this far reaching task is the expertise of the several specialists, who function like safecrackers or demolition experts in more conventional examples of the genre.  In this case they perform more metaphysical functions, like building dreams, administering drugs, or creating imaginary scenery.  On some level they’re a little like web designers.  The issue that complicates the task, the human factor, is DiCaprio’s preoccupation with his dead wife, who more or less “lives” in his dreams, cluttering them with guilt. When things get really sticky, and the lives of his entire team hang in the balance, can he separate from an obsession with her accidental death?

Carl Jung, if he’s watching from some heavenly screening room, is wearing a huge grin, as most of “Inceptions” ideas have been lifted from his pioneering work on the subconscious. Jung would be especially impressed with the lavish and well conceived dreamscapes that are among the movie’s many technical achievements.

Things go awry, as they must, both in the real world, where the team works in a kind of comatose limbo, and the dream, where the dead wife exerts a distracting and potentially fatal influence. The ground rules are established early on, although they’re augmented when things get more complicated.

One of the most startling passages depicts the entire team asleep in a van as it hurtles through New York City, with heavily armed bad guys in pursuit. Because it’s been contrived in order to disorient the “mark,” there’s no real jeopardy.  Still, the image of a half dozen people sleeping through a hail of machine gun fire is both startling and comic.  And like a lot of the other big thrills in the movie, it’s expertly shot and directed.

DiCaprio is sturdy in the lead, working in the same mode as “Shutter Island.”  Ever since Scorcese’s Howard Hughes bio, he’s been the go to guy for the troubled leading man roles in big studio productions.  Director Nolan has surrounded him with the best supporting cast one could expect in any world; Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon Levitt, and Ken Watanabe, among others.  Nolan’s script gives the secondary players as much to do as the leads in less ambitious films.  Marion Cotillard, whose bruised beauty is used to brilliant effect, haunts DiCaprio’s dreams and keeps us guessing as to what new strategy she’ll come up with to sabotage the mission.

No less than three action sequences play out simultaneously in the final act, each with a unique production design and pace.  As you would expect of a movie that cost $160 million, the effects are seamless, and at times, like when we enter the dream world DiCaprio and Cotillard create for their marriage, emotionally compelling.

But there’s something about this immensely entertaining movie that nagged at me at the end.  It’s more than the fact that the rules of the game are continually modified as complications ensue.  It has to do with the entire conception.

Most movies that linger in our memory are driven, from the very start by a character, and his problems.  When the best of them bring physical and psychological jeopardy together, as in “Notorious,” they stay with us even after the logistics of the story fades away. But “Inception,” like Nolan’s early “The Prestige,” and “Memento,” seems to have been conceived from the other direction.  That is, the characters have been rigged to fit unusual plot devices.

One of the tips of to this strategy is the way “Inception” begins, with that very long action sequence.  It’s almost a half hour before we know who our leads are or what they’re up to. So while we’re curious, the movie doesn’t build our involvement with DiCaprio and his issues until much later on.

These caveats notwithstanding, “Inception” is terrific entertainment, and a blessed relief from a slew of tepid summer blockbusters struggling to recoup the oversize budgets studios have lavished on them.

Briefly noted…

I was sorry to see “Cyrus,” get such a short run at the local multiplex.  Even though it’s managed to escape the art house ghetto too few people have been turned on to this funny, truly adult comedy.

I’ll comment on “Cyrus,” its inspired cast and sharp tongued writer/directors, when the film appears on DVD.  For now, if it shows up in another local, venue, go!

The appearance of “The Secret in Their Eyes” at a local art house is one small sign that the experience of seeing a foreign language title in a theater has not entirely escaped this community.  I wrote about this one early this summer, urging movie lovers to go for it.  For the short time it’s here, you can see a skillful and moving Argentine thriller, the Academy Award winner from last year, on a big screen.

And while I’m on the subject of theatrical releases, the second installment in the Dragon Tattoo series, “The Girl Who Played With Fire,” is currently lighting a fire under movie goers in Philadelphia.  If you liked the first, this is more of the same, in a slightly different key.  I’ll have more to say about this enigmatic “girl” in the near future.